Springtime in Shermer
by CherryBlossomStem
Summary: It's the Monday after detention. Some connections remain as others falter and are kept hidden. Allison is hiding something terrible, drawing out some unlikely supporters. Feelings are hurt, promises are broken but it's also proven that some things just happen for a reason. Told from the POV of Allison


Allison woke up hopeful for the first time in a long time. Although the optimism immediately faded and was replaced with a lurching uncertainty deep in her gut.

Sunday had been riddled with anxiety. The entire day was spent pondering over wether or not Saturday had really taken place- and what it meant, if anything, to the others. She especially had her doubts about Claire. Wanting to believe that she could consider her somewhat of a friend despite their differences, experience made her more than skeptical.

Throwing her ratty comforter aside Allison cringed at the feeling of her bare feet on the cold basement floor. Walking over to the dresser she had had since childhood she put on her thickest pair of wooly socks. Her otherwise bland room was covered in drawings she haphazardly tacked on top of the peeling wallpaper.

Rain softly pelted her tiny window and pulling back the curtains, she sighed wistfully. It was another gloomy day in Sheerer. Heavy clouds hung low and the world outside her bedroom was a dreary grey. Allison preferred days like this over the obnoxiously sunny ones that were to come with summer. Today the earth felt hushed, the grass was returning with a deep green and life was coming back to the city, once bleak and saturated with snow. She was counting on the comfort she would get from seeing Brian today. He knew what it was like to be an outcast, although perhaps not to the extent that she did. Being the only one she could depend on she really had to believe him when he said he wouldn't ignore her.

Allison ascended the stairs from the basement to the kitchen and confirmed that she was alone for the morning. Setting the old faded- white kettle on the stove she switched on the heat so she could make herself a cup of tea. Although she tried not to let it, her mind wandered to Andy while she sat on the counter and waited for the water to boil. His warm lips on hers- softer than she had expected and his strong hand on the back of her neck. The pang in her stomach was the fear that she wouldn't feel like this again.

She wondered what her father must have said after he saw them , or better yet what Andy's friends would say if they ever found out. What had he told his father on the ride home?

That she was someone he liked, or did he play it off as a joke- nothing serious at all? Had he moved on from Saturday like nothing ever happened or did he spend Sunday, the limbo between freedom and school think of her as she thought of him?

The kettle's scream interrupted her thoughts. She poured the steaming water over a bag of her favourite earl grey and lumped three and a half sugars into it. She removed the teabag carelessly, letting it drip on the counter and onto the linoleum floor. Taking a sip she thought about what it might be like to kiss him again, but without the interruption of others. How his tongue might press against hers and how their hands might roam. He had pushed so hard for her to open up to him and it terrified her to know she did. This honestly scared her, but she was also dying to let someone in. Life could be unbearably lonely when you felt invisible. Her artwork was the only escape from this personal hell, her cries for help covering the pages of her sketchbook and tacked to her bedroom walls.

She tried to tell herself there was no chance they would ever progress beyond that Saturday, but a small part of her held onto the idea that he wasn't just another brainless, heartless, dickless jock. Knowing what he has done to Brain's friend in the locker room, however, she knew he could be cruel. Despite the tears in his eyes and crackling pain in his voice as he told him this, the reason he had been sent to detention, Allison couldn't shake the knowledge that he was capable of some pretty terrible things.

After she finished her tea she showered, savouring the safety of the hot water. With her teeth brushed and her eyes rimmed with thick black liner she put on her usual arrangement of long dark clothing, her Bowie t-shirt underneath her sweater for luck.

Her finger wrapped around a loose string from her bag out of nervous habit. Something shiny laying on the street caught her eye and she immediately remembered that she still had John's switchblade. When she pulled it from the table he had stuck it in, the small skull on the side made her discretely pocket it. Swiping things like this was something she did a lot, and usually she didn't feel bad or have a desire to return it. She justified that the things she took either wouldn't be missed, or if they were, the people she took them from didn't really deserve them anyways. This time she reconsidered her reasoning, thought today may prove her wrong she considered John to be a friend or at least, a friendly acquaintance.

The bus pulled up to her stop and she sat in the back, as usual. She pulled her sketchbook and continued working on the piece she had begun on Friday night before detention. She was completely engrossed, ignoring the chaos of the cheese wagon until a familiar voice broke her concentration.

"Allison," she looked up and saw Brian standing beside her, "Is it okay if I sit here?"

Though this made her nervous, she nodded silently and tucked her sketchbook back into her bag. Brian seemed a bit uncomfortable himself, but she was glad he was here.

"How was your weekend?" She asked quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"It was okay," he smiled shyly, "How was yours?"

"It was alright I guess, besides waking up early for detention on Saturday."

"Yeah," he chuckled, then grew seriously, "Hey do you think…"

She knew what he was about to ask before he even finished his sentence. "That the other three will acknowledge us today?" She shook her head, "I don't think so."

"I would like to think that we are all still friends," he said to the floor.

"I would too but I just don't wan't to get my hopes up."

"Even, you know, you and Andy?"

The mention of his name from Brian stung, reminded her that their romance or whatever it was, existed in the real world and not in the one she often imagined for herself.

She scoffed, "I guess we'll find out today."

The bus arrived at school and came to a stop on the side of the parking lot. Walking up to the doors together, they paused the conversation they were having about their mutual chemistry teacher when they passed Claire. Surrounded by a group of equally put-together girls, hair done, outfits coordinated, nails delicately painted pink and filed to a neat, uniform oval Claire looked away nervously when she saw them headed toward her.

Though neither were surprised by this, they shared a disappointed glance, making their way up the stairs and eventually parting ways. Brian wanted to be early to shop class, but Allison figure she had some extra time before she had to make her way to history.

She went out the back doors of the south hallway, behind the school was the one place she could relax and where anyone else hardly ever went, the football bleachers. Sitting underneath them she continued working on her piece, she was determined to get it finished and it wasn't something she could work on in class. She didn't want anybody else to see it, not even Brian. She relaxed underneath the bleachers so much so that when the bell rang she decided she just didn't have the stomach for history today. No one had ever caught her out here and sometimes she was even able to convince her teachers that she had in fact been in class that day, despite being marked absent. This was one of the few perks of being virtually invisible.

A few minutes later a fist slamming into the bleachers lifted Allison from her engrossed state. She was shaken for a moment, before realizing the fist belonged to John. She came out from underneath and stood before him. He looked pissed, pinching the skin between his eyes and swearing before he noticed she was standing there.

"What do you want?" He barked. Allison had a feeling she knew what this was about.

"Everything alright?" She asked cautiously.

"Peaches and fucking cream," he swore icily, "Wheres Andy?"

She ignored his condescending remark and said, "I have something for you." She pulled the small switchblade out her bag, "although given your present mood I think that maybe I should hold onto it."

He scoffed at this, taking the knife in his hand, "Yeah well the one I should have pulled it on is Claire instead of your little boyfriend."

It was Allison's turn to scoff, "Well I wouldn't call him that."

"He tell you off too?"

"I haven't even seen him today. Why is that what happened with Claire?"

"Pretty much," he said sharply, lighting a cigarette, " I saw her in the hallway and she looked at me like I was a fucking leper. Caught me right before class and pretty much told me not to talk to her in front of any of her friends." He took a long drag and exhaled audibly, "Fuck me right?"

"Don't feel too bad, I'm pretty sure thats exactly what Andy is going to do to me today."

He shook his head, "Man who fucking needs them? They think they're too good for people like us."

 _People like us huh?_ She thought she hadn't been aware John thought of them as being from the same planet, much less alike in anyway.

To John's surprise, Allison reached in the pack of cigarettes in the front pocket of his flannel shirt and took one out, lighting it with a pack of matches produced from her bag. "She did the same thing to me and Brian, but I mean neither of us really bothered trying to talk to her.

Pulling out a small flask he said, "Yeah well, I guess I should have known.


End file.
